h.o.n.e.s.t.y.

I'm sitting in a room that has become a sanctuary, surrounded by books of long ago spread out around me.. big thick books that hold the kendra I used to be. I've changed so much, and yet in some ways I feel I haven't changed at all.

When I was 13 years old I wrote the following in what would become the first of many journals to come:
"wow-i need you so much. God- i want to be so much closer to you. I want to know you so much more. When you are rejoicing, I want to rejoice. When your heart breaks, I want to feel that brokeness. I want to be so close to you that I can hear and see your heart. God, please pour yourself out upon me. Give me an even greater desire to know your heart and to know you personally. I want to be a messenger of your love, a disciple of you. Please teach me discipline and help me to never stray from your truth. Please bestow on me the amazing strength that I will need to be a light in this world of darkness."

Looking through these books, I am amazed. The longing to know Him, to be used by Him, to carry His heart, to be pure, to be pulled deeper and closer...to be held by Him and Him alone...

It all runs together for me. When I think about brockport my mind gets fuzzy. My mind cannot hold all of this. I asked Him to break me, to take me deeper, and to show me Truth. He did every one of those things to a greater extent than I could have imagined and in ways I never could have anticipated. I didn't realize it would hurt that bad. I couldn't have known I would learn this much, experience this much.. I want to write about it but my words are getting gunky and I can't. I don't know what to do with it, with any of it. I don't know what to do with myself... I'm in a "meanwhile" and I don't know what to do in that meanwhile.
I want what's for right now. I want something fresh. I want to move forward, to discover something new..

I feel as though my senses have been tainted and I can't...sense...which is so, so strange for me. For as far back as I can remember I've always had a feeling about things. I don't have any feeling right now. And I'm afraid to start talking to God, or anyone for that matter, because I know that when I do it's all going to come rushing out and, once again, I will be ruined. Once again I will have no choice but to admit that this life of mine isn't mine at all anymore. I will be challenged to stand with faith, to fight with tenacity, to wait...and wait...and believe. All of which I will do, but am trying my hardest to put off until absolutely necessary.
It's so much. All of it.
And I'm sitting here, surrounded by 8 years of my heart. 8 years of deep longing, of great breaking, of frustrations, realizations and dreams. 8 years of believing for that which this world knows little to nothing of. 8 years of naively asking for things that would shape me, wreck me, undo me.

I'm overwhelmed.
I will stand up. I will walk forward. I will wait. And I will certainly believe. But I won't pretend that my insides aren't crumbling right now. I won't pretend that my soul doesn't want to lay down, and stay there for awhile. I won't pretend that I understand, that things are great and I'm on my way to changing the world, arms raised high, voice singing songs of freedom. Because honestly, right now I feel a captive; captive to the last 8 years of my life that have led me to this point, to where I've always dreamed of being but never imagined what it would actually look like.

There's always so much more than what is seen.

Like a rushing river am I
Like a raging torrent inside
I find that I’m full of knowing nothing
I find that I’m hungry for the fullness of Christ
Like a rushing river am I
Like a raging torrent inside
I find that I’m free falling again
I’m letting go of the mountain view,
Letting go, but what into
(misty edwards)